Morning Afters
by Lacewing
Summary: Mamori should have guessed something was wrong when he offered her that drink but she didn't. Now she knows just how low her alcohol tolerance is. Suggestions for further story development welcome!
1. Chapter 1

Don't own Eyeshield.. duh

And.. There will likely be a second chap, but I don't know what.. I'm actually rather stuck for ideas.. Anyone got suggestions?

---

She knew she shouldn't have trusted anything he gave her to drink. But the girl had been thirsty and had not even thought about what could have been added to the punch.

Afterall, it was a school event, someone was suppose to be watching the punch bowl.

Several cups later Mamori found herself very very drunk.

She leaned on a shoulder. Taller than her, strong arms wrapped around her waist. She found herself snuggling, she never thought that the smell of a man could be that good. Her nose was half buried against the side of the one helping her.

Who was it? Her mind wouldn't focus, just that it was someone she knew and felt she could trust.

Her house, she pointed and they veered off the road and onto the porch. The door was lock, her family gone for the night. Her mother had accepted a little spa trip she won in some contest or another. Mamori really hadn't paid attention, it had just been nice that her mother had gotten a chance to get away for a little while, and Mamori felt she was grown up, she could take care of herself.

If she could get the key to work.

There was a snort, a voice saying something she thought must have been rude, it sounded rude. She really wasn't paying attention, just grateful when surer hands than hers took the keys and opened the door for her.

She went in, only habit making her kick off her shoes before half stumbling into the living room and crashing on the cushions near the table. She curled up and giggled, god, she'd never been so drunk in all her life. It felt pretty good really.

Maybe she shouldn't be so up tight about it! It was rather fun.

She heard a voice again and blinked up at its owner, her eyes not focusing past general shapes and colors.

She just gave the voice a bright smile and earned a curse in return.

Then hands where picking her up again, but she had just gotten prone! She didn't want to get up again.

So she made herself a dead weight and earned a swat on her backside.

Hey! That hurt! She hit the one holding her and for her troubles was picked up and hung over a shoulder. Suddenly she was looking down a strong back and there.. A .. Target.

A giggle and she reached down to pinch the backside that was so temptingly in reach.

A yelp and another swat. She kicked her feet and earned another swat, but this time the hand stayed resting on her backside.

Well now, this wouldn't be quite so bad if she didn't have a shoulder shoved into her middle and the blood rushing to her head was making her more than a little dizzy.

Next she was dropped on her feet and hand to hang onto the form before her to keep from just dropping to the ground completely.

She looked up and gave her helper a bright smile. Was that a frown? She couldn't be sure. So she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned up to give him a kiss.

No response for a moment. She felt him tremble and wondered what his problem was, it was just a kiss.

Suddenly hands grabbed her and seemed almost as if they would push her away, but suddenly pulled her close. The lips under her's responding with a heat that was surprising. She was picked up so that the only place she had to place her legs was around the figure's waist.

There was heat, and touching, she was quickly losing all focus as she rather liked these new feelings. A dropping sensation and suddenly she was on her back in her bed, the figure above her shifting to allow easier access to her body with his hands. His kisses started to trail, along her jaw, neck, shoulders. She felt almost as if she was being devoured alive. She heard a heated whisper, asking her if she knew what she was getting into, and Mamori could only respond, that she didn't care.

---

Her head felt like it was screaming and ready to tear itself apart. She opened eyes that where half glued shut and had to reach up and rub them open. Her shifting caused the form next to her to shift as well and she went still.

Mamori felt her fractured memory piecing itself back together and she flew from her bed.

A nearly naked Hiruma grumbled something, flopped to his belly taking over the rest of her bed now that she abandoned it and covered his head with her pillow. She looked around, everything was where it belonged, except the small pile of clothing that was shoved to the floor. She blushed trying to remember all that happened. She, remembered being kissed, she remembered someone asking her if she knew what she was getting into.

And her reply being she didn't care.

Oh, god...

She looked at herself, she was still mostly dressed. Her clothing a disarray, likely from a mix of activity and sleep, but she didn't feel different really. So, did they?

She didn't know if she should feel angry or what. The girl just felt, confused. She fled to the toilet so she could wash her face of sleep and try and piece the rest of her broken memories together. Staring at her reflection in the mirror over the sink she couldn't even keep contact with her own tired brown eyes. Leaning on the sink she hung her head and blinked back tears. This, wasn't how things where meant to happen. She was part of the school disaplinary commity, she was an honor student and she wasn't the type of girl to get drunk and go loose her virginity with the first guy she happened to be with at the time.

And then the other side of things hit her. Hiruma, she had the demon quarterback of the Devilbats in her bed, and he was renowned for using anything as blackmail.

He had himself a good one now. She would be trapped, another of his slaves, if she ever wanted to keep any respect around school.

"Hey." she felt herself go cold. Someone filled the doorway to her lavatory and she went stiff. She couldn't look at him, if she couldn't meet her own eyes, how could she meet his? He would have no respect for her ever after this. None, and she wouldn't blame him.

"Damn manager." she heard just before long fingers gripped her shoulder and turned her, forcing her to meet his gaze "Nothing fucking happened." he told her in stern tones. She blinked rapidly.

What?

He sighed and let her go, she stumbled back a half step "We screwed around a bit then you fell to sleep. You where fucking wrapped around me like seaweed on sushi, I couldn't go downstairs to sleep on the couch." he shrugged "Nothing, happened" he told her again and Mamori felt her legs go weak.

She sat down on the toilet seat and blinked up at Hiruma "So." she felt relieved, and didn't really know what to make of the odd look that passed over his features for a moment before he turned his own head suddenly looking away from her "What now?" she asked him.

He shrugged "We go on, like nothing happened."

"Cause it didn't" she added.

He shrugged again "I'm hungry" he stated and left the room.

She sat in silence for a long time. Trying to sort out the conflicting feelings, and the growing headache that naturally followed having gotten completely and utterly smashing drunk the night before.

Mamori decided she would have to think another time. Especially with Hiruma yelling at her to get out of the bathroom because he had to use it too.

"I have a headache! Be quiet!" she yelled back at him and earned a more classic evil laugh in return. He was definitely starting to act more like himself.

"Not my fucking fault you can't hold your liquor for shit, fucking Manager!"

"Stop calling me that!"

Ignoring the fact that she was playing hostess to a demon, things where back to normal.

And for now, that would work. Mamori wasn't sure she was ready to deal with her feelings about the quarterback.

Not yet anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

Welcome to the second chapter of Mornings After, thanks to all those who reviewed! Your responses where encouraging and really got me worked up to try and add something to this! Well, one person's comment about seeing Hiruma's take on the situation ended up spurring this little bit of drivel.

And a note, I think Hiruma does his own homework. he's showed several times to have a photographic memory and he fits the time who do.. Seemingly total disregard for anything written, because glancing at it gives them all they need to know, why bother reading it? (Plus with how he picked up Mamori's code..)

Anyway.. enjoy and please review me your thoughts, suggestions and commentary! I adore hearing it all!

----

It was so much easier before this whole mess. When she was just the 'Damn Manager' and he was the 'Demonic Slave Driver'.

Now, he wasn't sure what they where anymore.

A week. It had been a week since that night of the school function and he had many mornings after to wake and realize.

He didn't know what to do about it.

Himura's mind ran so many devious pathways that most sane humans could not comprehend, or would want to. His mind which could come up with a battle plan in a heartbeat. Change tactics in a millisecond.

Didn't know what to do about a scrap of a girl who both annoyed and intrigued him.

People to him where just things he could use. Mamori was, at first, no different. He tricked her into joining, just to get a little free labor since she proved to be very good at cleaning the mess that was his clubhouse.

Then she proved those test scores of her's where well earned and her mind just as fast as his.

In a lot of ways they thought alike, each able to tell what the other wanted without words being necessary. She would silently and efficiently clean up after him, and still keep up with every demand he made. She wasn't very good with computers, she was over protective and tended to baby People who could use a little more backbone.

She knew how he liked his coffee and when he wanted a new cup without him having to demand it. She knew just the right thing to say that took him from a slump to a rage, or from a rage to a manic gleefulness that tended to scare people even more than when he was mad. She had more backbone than half his team put together and more spunk than any girl he'd ever met.

Despite how much she drove him crazy sometimes, he wanted to keep her.

Was it love? He really didn't think so. At least, not like any he'd ever read or heard about. There where no sappy love notes, or flowers, or moonlight serenades. Not like he was the type for any of that anyway, but they tended to drive each other crazy more often than not.

It was what he realized, he wanted that. Wanted her to be there driving him nuts and he liked how she looked when she was mad at him. He wanted to know how far he could push before she snapped. He wanted her to fight him back.

Was that love?

If so then he was really fucked up.

He sat silent and unmoving, his laptop before him and he wasn't even registering what was on the screen. mamori came up beside him. She said something he didn't pay too much mind. She put something down beside him and his fingers picked it up without thinking. Spitting out his old piece of gum he opened the pack she bought and popped a new piece of sugarless gum. He paused head tilted. It was a new flavor, wasn't bad, so he just chewed silently and leaned back against the wall resting his fingers on the keyboard.

But his thoughts where elsewhere. With a sigh he decided he needed to focus. Opening himself a new text document he started organizing his thoughts. He'd always been able to think better when he was writing, part of why he wrote so much on his lap top. Plans, information gathering, homework. Sure, he got people to do a lot of things for him, but his grades where all his own. It was easier to just do it how he wanted than risk having someone else screw it up.

Not like it took him all that much time anyway, he had a photographic memory so long as he glanced over the class work he was set.

Which was fine by him, left him time to work on other things.

Like figuring out just what the hell he thought of a certain brown haired girl who's only real looks where her rather nice set of breasts.

And that thought took him off on an angle he did NOT want to go at the moment. Mentally he groaned and for all appearances to the others he just pinched the bridge of his nose like something annoyed him. Which was true enough.

The others watched him warily. He was known to get violent when things started to bother him.

Hell he got violent when things made him happy.

He liked being predictable like that. Which reminded him.

Pulling out one of his favorite scattershot rifles he loaded and as eyes all turned towards him with mixed shock or fear he grinned "What the hell are you all doing still sitting around here? Practice!" he shouted "Fucking move!" and taking careful aim he fired off his gun.

People moved and he cackled merrily as they rushed to get into gear and their asses onto the field.

Mamori wasn't pleased though "It's cold out this morning! Much too cold to be out there!"

"What are you going to do about it Fucking Manager?" he asked her getting in her face, screw organizing thoughts, right now he had a challenge and he wanted to win.

He always played to win, and this was a game he was defiantly going to win.

After all, no one got away.

She backed off a little and he leaned in closer.

Oddly she suddenly went beat red and fled the room without saying anything else.

He blinked taken off guard. Normally such a response would be welcomed from the usually impossible woman, but he was hoping for a fight. It took his mind off other thoughts, like, how much he wanted to kiss her again. To feel that body under his responding to his touch.

Damn it! He needed a shower.

----

It was an unusually cold morning. Frost was still crunchy under their feet as they hit the field. Everyone warming up with whatever they where doing. Sprinting, blocking and tackling. Hiruma was dressed in his uniform watching everything with a gun on his shoulder and his eyes keenly scanning the field. He looked for all the world like a statue if it wasn't for the fog of his breath on the air.

Mamori didn't know how he could just stand there as if he didn't notice the cold. She sure did. She was freezing her butt off. Mamori had tried to put the thoughts of a week ago off her mind. Forget they ever happened. Hiruma seemed completely comfortable the bastard showing nothing that told her if he even remembered.

It made things uncomfortable for her though. Working close proximity when he leaned too close and she would remember like a flash of feeling an uncomfortable bit of their evening.

Such as that morning, in the clubhouse. He'd leaned in so close, like he had so many times before. Trying to intimidate her, his eyes daring her to do something. Inviting her even.

And she remembered a heated question and her response. A response she found herself wanting to shout at him at that moment.

'I don't care,' she sighed and bit her pencil letting her eyes travel over the lines of players and trying to refocus her mind on which plays would be best to suggest for the next game. She still had mountains of data to go over.

Suddenly she blinked when she realized there was a hand being waved in front of her face. She looked up and blinked at Hiruma who was frowning at her. The corners of his mouth turned down and his eyes narrowed.

"What?" she demanded of him irritably.

"I said, 'What the fuck are you muttering about over here Damn Manager'" he repeated himself a hand on his hip and half leaning down towards the girl who was seated on the bench near the field.

Muttering? Oh no! Was she talking to herself now? Great. What a habit to start with Hiruma and his notoriously sharp ears around! "Nothing! I was just going over possible plays against the next team is all! Sorry if my thoughts ended up being out loud." she said simply.

"What does 'I don't care' have to do with plays then?" he demanded.

She tried not to blush, she tried very hard not to blush.

Which of course meant she was red as a tomato. "Um.. I.. Um.. I don't care about the other team, we'll beat them!" she tried to cover.

His smile said he saw it as a cover and he leaned forward a little more nearly nose to nose with the girl who'd backed up as far as her seated position would allow without her tumbling off the back of the bench.

"Good attitude, but you are a horrible liar, Damn Manager" he told her. He leaned forward just a little more.

And she tumbled off the back of the bench with a squawk of statement as he walked off cackling and reloading his gun to use and 'encourage' his team to pick up the speed of their training a little more. 


End file.
